


Together, or Not at All

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Chipfic, F/M, On the Run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25473190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: Prompt request: while on the run, Scully believes the chip is controlling her again.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	Together, or Not at All

It was 3am the first time it happened and it scared the shit out of him. He woke reaching for his gun, aiming at the door before his eyes were even fully open, ready to fire. And he nearly pulled the trigger, too. He wasn’t sure what stopped him, but whatever it was, he thanked his lucky stars in the end that he hesitated.

“What’re you doing?” Mulder husked, setting his gun down on the nightstand.

Scully didn’t answer, but continued to rattle the door handle with her back to the room. A little shaky and distressed, Mulder got up out of bed and walked over to her. He put his hand on her wrist, but still she rattled the handle, twisting it back and forth and back and forth. The lock was still in place, as was the deadbolt across the top.

“Scully?”

The room was dim, but he could see that her eyes were closed. He hadn’t known her to sleepwalk before, but he was fairly certain that’s what he was dealing with. He gripped her wrist just a little tighter and pulled her hand away from the door. She dropped her arm and stood swaying, eyes still closed.

“Come on,” he whispered, taking her by the shoulders and gently trying to turn her back towards the bed. She went easily and crawled back into bed with his help. He stood over her for a long while, heart racing.

He stayed awake for the rest of the night, watching her from a chair he dragged next to the bed. She didn’t move at all. In the morning, when she opened her eyes, she stretched and frowned as she yawned.

“You’re staring at me,” she mumbled.

“What were you dreaming about last night?”

“Dreaming?” She yawned again. “I have no idea.”

“Do you remember sleepwalking?”

“I’ve never sleepwalked in my life.”

“You did last night. You were trying to open the door at 3am.”

She sat up. “I did what?”

“You don’t remember at all?”

She shook her head slowly, brows furrowed. She looked even more concerned than he felt. He tried to relax. Early morning stubble rasped against his hand as he stroked his chin and jaw.

“It’s probably just stress,” he said. “Maybe we should try to stay put for awhile.”

“Is that safe?”

“I was thinking about it last night. We can make it to San Francisco today, I think. Trade in the car, blend in a bit for awhile. Should be able to stay for a month or so. A few weeks, at least.”

“West again, not east?”

“Why not?” He stood up and stretched his back. The thought of staying in one place made him anxious, but it was obvious they needed a break. He’d lost track of the number of towns they’d stayed in over the last three months, not to mention the different names they’d used. They had a stack of IDs and cash, courtesy of The Gunmen, part of a long ago formed contingency plan for disappearing if things ever went south for them.

“If that’s what you think is best,” she said.

“We can visit the redwoods.”

Mulder had just been fooling himself, however, if he thought that sleepwalking could be cured by a chance of scenery. They were in an extended-stay motel in San Francisco for three nights before he was again awoken by the rattle of the door handle. This time, Scully was actually fiddling with the locks, clumsily pulling at the chain across the top, but unable to slide it out of place.

Again, Mulder led her back to bed and she rolled towards the wall with a sigh as he drew the blankets over her. She remembered nothing in the morning and held her head in her hands when he told her about the incident in the night.

The third time, he unintentionally woke her as he tried to pull her away from the door. She wasn’t retreating as easily as before and yanked at the handle with two hands. He put his arms around her and held her tight. She struggled against him and then gasped.

“Mulder?”

“Come on,” he said. “It’s okay, come back to bed.”

“Is this what I’ve been doing?”

“More or less. Not usually so...aggressive though.”

He sat her down on the bed and then sat beside her. She turned her face to the window, away from him. They sat in silence for awhile as he rubbed her knee.

“If something’s bothering you, you can tell me,” he said. “Aside from the obvious. I know this is...it hasn’t been easy.”

“I’m fine, Mulder.”

He sighed and took his hand from her knee. She got up and went to the bathroom. He got up and paced. He was a little scared because he didn’t know what to do, but also a little annoyed that after all this time and everything they’d been through, that Scully was still trying to hide her feelings from him. Any time he did get annoyed though, he’d remind himself what she’d given up in joining him on the run and then guilt would set in.

“Scully,” he said, moving to the bathroom and knocking quietly with the side of his knuckle.

“Don’t come in!” she called. The emphatic plea gave him goosebumps. Whatever was happening behind that door, he absolutely needed to get in. He tried the handle, but it was locked so he stood back and leveled a hard kick to the middle of the door. The wood frame splintered as the door flew inward and smacked the wall. 

Scully was at the sink, the shock of his intrusion written on her face. She held her hair up with one hand, off the back of her neck, and in the other, she held a straight razor that she’d managed to work out of the casing.

“No!” he yelled. “Scully!” He grabbed her wrist and pressed his thumb roughly into her palm, forcing her hand to open and drop the razor into the sink. She cried out softly and bent forward, grabbing his arm with her free hand to pull him away from her. He relented, but not before he dragged her backwards with him, out of the bathroom.

“Dammit, Mulder.” 

His hands were in her hair, lifting and searching in the moonlight. She tried to slap them away, tried to keep his hands off her neck, but his fingers found the tell-tale puckered skin just below her hairline. He sighed in relief.

“Why, Scully? Why would you do that?”

“Because I don’t know why this is happening!” She broke out in tears and slumped against him. He wrapped his arms around her and she pressed her face to his chest and held onto his t-shirt. “It has to be the chip, Mulder. They’re trying to use me to get to you. It’s the only explanation that makes sense.”

“Honey, no,” he whispered. “Cancerman is dead. The syndicate is dead. Anyone that had anything to do with that is gone.”

“You don’t know that. We don’t even know for sure what this thing in my neck is. They could still be monitoring me even now. Oh god, they could know where we are even at this very moment. Mulder, we’ve got to split up. You need to get as far away from me as you can get.”

“Stop it,” he said, taking her by the shoulders and pushing her away from his chest to look at her. “That is not happening. We’re in this together or not at all.”

“You don’t know what you’re risking. Mulder, you’ve-”

“I am not spending a week, a month, a year, or a single minute without you, Scully. I will turn myself in before I let that happen.”

“You can’t do that.”

“I can’t do this without you either. I won’t.”

“I can’t lose you,” she whispered.

He wiped the tears from her face and then took her into his arms again. She sighed and rested her cheek against his chest.

“I can’t lose you either,” he said. “And if you take the chip out...we don’t know if…I’m not willing to take that risk.”

“What if this doesn’t stop?”

“It will.”

“I hope you’re right.”

He brought her back to bed and they laid down facing each other. Neither slept the rest of the night.

The End


End file.
